Melting Snow
by Alias1
Summary: Another sad Valentine's tale for LaCroix.


FOREVER KNIGHT  
  
Melting Snow  
  


Have you seen him?  
  
Non....not since the night before last.  
  
He didn't come home?  
  
Non. I can't even tell you exactly when he left.  
  
Nick let out a huge sigh of air, shaking his head, The past few nights his broadcasts have been recordings of pre-taped shows. He paused for a moment, staring into Janette's deep blue eyes. Maudlin doesn't begin to describe the   
  
Yes, I heard them. Janette paused, looked down at the floor, then changed the subject, So, are you spending tomorrow night with Dr. Lambert?  
  
Nick looked at her sharply, his voice filled with chastisement,   
  
--Yes, I know, it's none of my business.  
  
Nick smiled slightly, I'm taking her to dinner.  
  
  
  
And your plans? Do they include any interesting liaisons?  
  
Janette smiled, Non....I was planning on spending the evening with LaCroix, but.....  
  
Her voice died away. They held a long look.  
  
Nick finished the thought, But you've no idea where he is....  
  
Janette let the awkward silence lie between them, as she looked away. Finally she looked directly into Nick's eyes as she spoke.  
  
I think we both have an idea of where he might have gone, oui?  
  
Nick looked down at the floor. Even after all the centuries, it was still painful to think of his sister. Slowly he raised his eyes to meet Janette's.  
  
He wouldn't....  
  
Nick's voice trailed off. He knew in fact that LaCroix would. He hated to think of it; even more, he hated to acknowledge it. LaCroix really had loved his sister, Nick knew it was true. In his haste to spare his beloved Fleur the darkness of his own mistake, he had failed to recognize the love between his sister and his immortal father. And now it was too late. Far too late.  
  
I think there is a part of him that has never gotten over her, Nicolas. A part of him that is still hollow. A part of him that aches for her every time the memory is triggered inside of him.  
  
Nick walked away from the bar, his back to Janette, his hands in his pants pockets. He shook his head, then turned back to Janette.  
  
I've got to go, Janette.  
  
Yes, I can see that.....  
  
Nick glared at her, What will you do tomorrow?  
  
I have a club to run, and it's one of the busiest nights of the year.  
  
Nick smiled and leaned in, kissing Janette lightly on the lips, Let me know when he comes back.  
  
  
  
Janette watched Nick's retreating figure until he was lost in the crowd of gyrating bodies. She turned to the bar and picked up her drink, sipping it. She was worried about LaCroix. Nick never did understand just how deeply he had hurt their father that night. He didn't then, and he didn't now.  
  
She drained her glass and set it on the bar. There would be no enjoying the evening tomorrow. Not as long as he was gone. All she could do was wait.  
  
***********************  
  
The snow crunched under his feet, and as he made his way through the ancient burial markers, his breath was visible every time he breathed out. He knew it was no longer there. It had been gone for centuries. But he remembered where it had been. He would never forget, anymore than he could forget her.  
  
He began to head up a small hill, toward the back of the cemetery wall; a wall that hadn't been there in the thirteenth century. It was very late, and exceedingly dark. Not that LaCroix would have noticed, his mind was very much occupied, but there wasn't another soul to be seen or felt: He was alone.  
  
As he neared the top of the hill, he slowed. The few remaining markers in this area of the cemetery were extremely worn. So worn, that most of the dates and names had rubbed off by their enemies, time and weather. Finally, near several worn markers, he stopped.  
  
He knelt down next to some headstones, and he pushed the snow off of one. This particular grave had been there since the 18th century, and he now used it as a marker for one long disintegrated. Gently he placed a single white rose next to the headstone.  
  
The only sign of emotion on his stoic face, was the slight twitching of a muscle in his jaw. It still hurt. Even after eight centuries, he missed her. He closed his eyes as they threatened to blur.  
  
He could still smell her sweet scent, and the fragrance of her blood. The one precious drop he had taken off her finger had tasted of sweet grapefruit and honey, but more importantly, it had been filled with her lust for living, and her attraction to him. The deep blue of her eyes still haunted him, and her laugh; he would give almost anything to hear its music once more.  
  
He slowly opened his eyes, and they were blazing golden orbs. He stood up and shook it off, his eyes reverting to blue blocks of ice. So many years ago, and yet, the love of this one mortal woman still shook him to the very core of his soul. He remembered it with a clarity and intensity, that could destroy a weaker member of his race. There was nothing to be done.   
  
Nicholas did not understand the pain and the permanent hell he had inflicted upon his creator that night. He never would. Slowly LaCroix started down the hill, his hands in his coat pocket, the snow once again making a crunching sound under his feet. LaCroix knew that if his heart had remained as cold as the snow, he would have been spared this fate. It was a necessary part of immortal survival. But even snow melts.  
  
*****************  
  
Nat looked into the blue eyes across the table from her. He was smiling, but his eyes were not. Something was bothering him, she knew. However, he hadn't said a word. Typical. God forbid he should open up and share a part of himself with her.  
  
  
  
  
  
Don't take this the wrong way, I love being here with you, but--  
  
  
  
But I'd like you to be here with me.  
  
Nick frowned, I am here with you Nat.  
  
No, I don't just mean here with me, sitting across the table, staring into space. I mean with me, as in, your brain is here.  
  
  
  
Yes, oh. She paused, then, So? What's bothering you?  
  
He smiled, Nothing.....how's the pasta?  
  
The pasta is excellent. Don't change the subject. Why are you so distracted?  
  
Nick looked away. She had him, and they both knew it. He looked back at her.  
  
I'm sorry, really. It's just.....  
  
His voice trailed off, and he looked away again. Natalie frowned. Whatever it was, it was really bothering him. She gently reached a hand across the table, touching his.  
  
Whatever it is, Nick, you can tell me.  
  
He looked at her,   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Yes, LaCroix.  
  
What about him?  
  
I'm......worried about him. A little.  
  
Don't take this the wrong way, but, why?  
  
He left town a few days ago, without telling anyone he was going, and he hasn't come back. No one's heard from him.  
  
Maybe he was tired and needed to get away from it all.  
  
Nick suddenly frowned. For a moment, he thought he sensed LaCroix. He looked toward the front entrance, but there was no sign of the ancient. He shook his head.  
  
Look, I'm sorry I mentioned it, Nat. Let's forget about LaCroix, and enjoy the evening.  
  
Good idea, Nat smiled broadly, the food here is great.  
  
***************  
  
LaCroix continued to observe them from a discreet distance. He noticed his son's reaction to the doctor when she touched his hand. He had always known that Nick had lied to him that night at Azure; he had just chosen to let it go. He loved his son far more than the boy knew. Despite what he had said, LaCroix had never intended to make Nick suffer in the same way that he himself had suffered. Even LaCroix couldn't be that cruel.  
  
A sad smile lit his lips momentarily as he watched the two of them laugh together. He looked at Natalie; she was clearly in love, just as Fleur had been in love. There was something in a woman's eyes when she was in love; a sparkle, a lightness. Momentarily overwhelmed by his own emotions, LaCroix had to look away. There was nothing more for him to do here. He started to walk away, but then stopped as an idea hit him. He smiled.  
  
*******************  
  
The waiter brought the champagne bucket to the table, and began to show the bottle to Nick for his approval, when Nick's frown stopped him.  
  
I am sorry sir, do you not like champagne?  
  
We didn't order any.  
  
It is from a gentleman, who said I should tell you to enjoy the evening while you can, because love is a most fleeting and dangerous thing.  
  
Nick and Nat exchanged a glance. It reeked of LaCroix.  
  
Sir? Do you want the bottle?  
  
No, we do--  
  
  
  
  
  
He's already paid for it, and well, what the hell; LaCroix probably knows good champagne when he sees it.  
  
Nick smiled and nodded to the waiter, who began to pour.  
  
*******************  
  
Be mine. Two words, quite simple really, and yet they convey a world of meaning. He paused to lick his lips, Be mine..... I can't live without you because I am so dependent upon you. Be mine......until I tire of you and leave you by yourself. Be mine....for eternity.  
  
How many of us have pinned our hopes on those two simple little words, only to have our hearts dashed open by the cruelest of fates? Or perhaps we had only to walk away from our love in order to save it.  
  
He paused, trying to stuff the bubbling emotion down, but he could not. In anger, he abruptly flipped the switch on the board, ending his broadcast. He took a deep an uneven breath, trying to steady himself. More than 800 years, and he still couldn't get over her. His eyes flooded with unexpected tears. He knew his heart would never be free of the pain. It was the only thing that was still truly his.  
  
At that moment, he gave into the anguish in his heart, and a painful sob escaped his lips. Instinctively he covered his mouth, but he knew it was too late; the emotions were going to have their way with him. His only choice was to submit.   
  
And it all flowed back into him. The way her touch felt on his hands, her smell, the softness of her lips as they brushed his with a kiss. His heart throbbed in the ache of it, and the more he tried to hold the sadness in, the more it pushed against the edges of his sanity to get out.  
  
He did not hear the door as it opened and closed, nor her approach. He did not notice her at all, until she was standing directly behind him. And then he felt her, or rather, he felt the stab in her heart. She had opened herself to his pain, and his barriers were so far down, she had been hit with the full force of his grief.  
  
LaCroix stood, and turned just in time to catch her, as she swayed on her feet, overcome by the emotions. As quickly as he could, he tried to put up the layers of protection, blocking Janette from being able to sense him. Her breaths were coming in short gasps, and LaCroix worried for her safety. He pulled her into his arms and carried her out of the soundbooth, and up the back staircase, leading to the apartment above the Raven.  
  
He gently placed her on his bed, putting a pillow under her head. After a moment, her eyes slowly opened, but her face was deathly pale, even for one of their kind.  
  
Her voice was weak,   
  
Shhh.....Janette, it's all right. He ran a gentle finger along her face, Just relax.  
  
What happened?  
  
He looked away, a slight look of guilt creeping into the icy eyes, I'm sorry, Janette. I didn't know you were there, I didn't know--  
  
Janette reached a hand up to his lips, stopping him, Her eyes filled with tears of sadness, I'm so sorry. I did not know it was still that....strong.  
  
His eyes clouded over and Janette knew he wasn't going to allow a discussion to take place. His voice was smooth but cold when he finally responded.  
  
You'll be all right, Janette. I want you to stay here and rest.  
  
He stood up and started out, but her voice halted him, LaCroix, please--  
  
--Please what, he snapped.  
  
Her eyes pleaded with him, Please don't leave me right now.  
  
He frowned, sensing her fear, Why are you frightened?  
  
She reached a hand out to him, and slowly he took it, I just need you to stay here for now. Please, mon pere.  
  
His eyes darted to hers, she hadn't sounded so vulnerable for as long as his memory could stretch back. After a moment's consideration, he silently sat on the edge of the bed, gently gathering her hand in between both of his.   
  
He placed a light kiss on it, I'm here, Janette.  
  
Exhausted, her eyes fluttered closed and soon she was asleep. He glanced out the window, into the night, and the snow had begun to fall, heavily covering the street. He glanced down at the face of the sleeping woman, and a slight smile tugged at his lips. There was some long tucked away part of him that felt comforted knowing that someone still cared about him. Some long forgotten fragment of his humanity that he quickly filed away, and would never admit to; and yet, Janette had touched it.  
  
He looked once again out the window. The snow continued to gently fall outside, blanketing the entire world with its swirling softness. It showed no signs of stopping.  
  
the end  
  
  
  



End file.
